


Fight 'em Until You Can't Fight Anymore

by ultramarcypan



Category: Servamp (Anime & Manga)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-09
Updated: 2016-09-09
Packaged: 2018-08-14 02:21:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7995142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ultramarcypan/pseuds/ultramarcypan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, Hyde doesn’t think they’ll ever stop fighting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fight 'em Until You Can't Fight Anymore

Sometimes, Hyde doesn’t think they’ll ever stop fighting.

In his long, long life, he’s never had an Eve that gets under his skin quite like Licht Jekylland Todorki does. He’s dealt with divas before; played nice with the prima donna who thought she was the center of the universe and the arrogant actor who thought himself entitled to the world on a silver tray. He’d smiled and nodded and agreed with whatever they wanted to hear from him--and then snapped their necks when he grew bored and moved on in an endless loop of death and destruction.

An angel, though, is a new one, even for him.

There are days where Hyde would love nothing more than to revert back to his old ways, to take Licht’s delicate bones in his hands and snap them into little bits, because he is stronger, he is a vampire, and this human is foolish to think that they’re equals. Licht is strong, one of the strongest Eves he’s ever had, but he’s still just a human. A weak, fragile, _mortal_ who is the most arrogant being that’s walked the face of the earth, claiming divinity in human form.

Usually, Hyde lets his Eve’s eccentric words roll of his back like water off a duck. It’s so easy to pretend it’s all nonsense. And then there are times--times when Licht is on stage, when his fingers dance along the piano and create a melody that moves people to tears, one that taps into the very soul of their beings--where Licht’s behavior infuriates the Servamp of Greed.

Maybe it’s because Hyde knows what the world is really like. Maybe it’s because he gave up on the idea of a God and Heaven when Ophelia was ripped from him. Or maybe he’s just afraid to admit that Licht may be right and that he as a demon has no place touching something so pure.

Those days, when Hyde can feel the rage and despair bubbling in him like lava, are the days when fights break out. 

Most of the time their fights are physical. Neither of them are fantastic at controlling their tempers, and they tend to place emotions much higher than reason. Being at constant odds with each other only exacerbates the issue and anger turns to fists which turn into bruises that bloom in grotesque shades of black and purple against pale white skin and cuts that trickle sluggishly down cheeks and knuckles. Licht can give it just as good as he can take it when he’s pushed and there is no real winner to these fights.

Afterwards, they both wind up collapsed on the floor, chests heaving and hearts pounding an unsteady beat against their ribs and it all crescendos into a macabre melody that the two of them alone know all the steps to. By the time their breathing evens out and their heart rates recede, all the anger has been drained from them and has been replaced with the dull throb of their wounds.

The two of them never acknowledge their fist fights, never apologize for any punch thrown, any bruised cheek, any cut lip. Kranz scolds them both and Gil waves the arms of the mascot suit fiercely at them and life goes on. Hyde realizes once, in a moment of clarity, that after any sort of scrap between them, there’s usually a few months of peace in between. Dimly, a voice in his head whispers the word _catharsis_ to him, but listening to the inner voice of his desires has never helped him before so he shoves it back, locks it away in the dark corners of his mind where it will hopefully be swallowed up and forgotten.

Licht goes back to being an angel and Hyde pretends that he isn’t terrified by the thought of losing another human who’s far too idealistic for their own good.

Sometimes, Licht is the one who loses his temper first. No one has understood Lawless of Greed better in centuries--not since Ophelia, who could read him like an open book. And Hyde’s trying, he really is; the fight with Higan changed the dynamics between him and his Eve entirely, and while they’re not _friends_ , per se, they are partners and nothing can change that.

But it’s hard; it’s so, so hard after centuries of self-loathing and loneliness and nihilism; and it doesn’t disappear overnight. He can always tell when Licht is going to lay into him for clinging to his old ways; there’s a calm, just like before a storm, and when he listens Hyde can hear the familiar notes of _Fur Elise_ being picked out on a piano.

Those fights are verbal, where they trade harsh words that sting more than any blow every could, that prick at hidden scars that have never truly healed until they’re reopened and oozing. Hyde, for all his theatrics and posturing, doesn’t have the same capacity to wound with words like his Eve does; Licht’s tongue is sharp and he knows how to wield it and when these fights arise Hyde is always the loser.

Hyde is not brave like his Eve. He can’t face himself, is terrified of what he’ll find if he digs too deep and he can’t keep his shields up when Licht is holding him hostage in front of a mirror. He is a coward, he is a fool, he is weak and he cannot defend himself against Licht’s assault.

He hides himself away after these fights, favoring his hedgehog form over his human one, tucking himself into the corners of his room where prying eyes can’t see him, and curls up into a tiny ball so that he can slowly piece himself back together.

Licht always, _always_ comes to find him after these kinds of fights. He sits on Hyde’s bed, feet scuffing the floor, eyes trained on the wall in front of him. He never makes any move to ferret Hyde out.

“I’m sorry,” he says to the silent room, but there’s so much more to it than that, words that Licht is too proud to say but means nonetheless. 

_I didn’t mean to hurt you. I shouldn’t have done that. I was wrong. I’m worried about you. Please forgive me._

“I’m sorry,” Licht repeats, and Hyde slowly uncurls from his ball and plods over to sit on Licht’s feet. Licht will reach down, offering his Servamp his hand but not touching him. Hyde’s reaction will depend on how bad the fight has just been. If it’s been particularly vicious, Hyde will squeal quietly and settle further down onto Licht’s boots. His Eve withdraws his hand and lets his Servamp sit there, keeping stock still and humming quietly to himself.

On the better days, Hyde bumps his nose gently against Licht’s fingers, and the pianist takes it as acceptance to touch. Hyde finds himself lifted up onto the bed, placed down right by Licht’s side and he nestles into his Eve’s warmth. He lets his quills flatten down against his spine so that Licht can lightly stroke him and he chitters quietly in appreciation.

_I forgive you_ is what he means, either way.

They talk after that. Usually, about trivial matters. Licht mentions a new piece that he’s learning or Hyde details one of his odd part time jobs that he’s picked up recently. The peace that has been uprooted is slowly brought back, and neither of them are willing to disturb it again.

On rare occasions, their talk turns to serious manners that skate the line of taboo topics. Licht will whisper quiet reassurances to Hyde, words that aren’t quite kind but are clearly meant to be. Hyde finds it’s much easier to face himself when Licht is nearby; he suspects that his Eve figured this out well before he himself did.

It’s times like, bolstered by his Eve’s presence, that Hyde finds the courage to talk about his past. In exchange for Licht’s unique brand of kindness, he offers stories about Ophelia--the good times they shared, her laugh, her light, which is so similar to Licht’s own radiance.

The pianist lets him talk, nods attentively, his dark eyes shimmering as he drinks in what his Servamp tells him. 

“She was a kind woman,” he says quietly one time. “Her belief in her ideals was admirable.” 

Licht pauses then, choosing his next words carefully. “I would have liked to meet her.”

Hyde can recall swallowing hard around the lump in his throat. “She would’ve liked you,” he says hoarsely, and he surprises even himself by how genuine his voice sounds. “You two are a lot alike.”

He remembers Licht looking surprised, a rare expression for his Eve to bear. Then surprise had morphed into a soft smile and Hyde’s heart had stuttered in his chest. 

“You think so?” Licht had mused, leaning back on his hands. “I’m flattered.”

With no suitable response, they had lapsed back into silence, though not an uncomfortable one.

And sometimes, their fights are a front because it is what’s expected of them. Times like these, Hyde remembers how far he’s come in life and how exhausting it is to keep pretending he’s something he’s not. Sometimes, it all gets to be too much and he thinks that if he has to deal with the world for just one second more he’ll shatter completely. 

These are the fights that Licht starts, after glancing sideways at his Servamp. They are abrupt and nonsensical and insults are traded but they have no bite to them; kicks are aimed at his head, but they are telegraphed clearly and he has ample time to block.

Kranz and Gil banish them to their rooms when these fights break out and Hyde retreats to the sanctity of his own room and relishes in solitude. He flings himself face down on his bed, burying his face into pillows and blankets and slowly lets the pent up tension and stress melt from his body.

Some time later, there’s a knock on his door, and it cracks open so that Licht can peer into the room. “You good, shit rat?”

Hyde groans into his sheets and Licht slips into the room, kicking the door shut behind him. He can hear his Eve rustling around, dragging something out from under the bed. The mattress dips as Licht settles down next to him and something solid is placed on Hyde’s back.

The object digs into his shoulder blades as Licht messes with it, and then there’s a quiet click and a hum. It presses down into Hyde’s back and a single C note rings out.

“Lich-tan?” Hyde asks, voice muffled. “Are….are you playing my Blue Man Group Piano on my back?”

“Shut up,” comes the firm order, and a B follows the C. Hyde obeys the not quite command, and Licht’s fingers move across the plastic keyboard. The tune isn’t quite right as it’s not a real piano, but Licht works with what he has and Hyde lets himself get lost in the music. It’s happy, and then sad, then hopeful and then just...is. Licht’s talent is something the world has never seen before and will likely never see again.

Licht plays and Hyde hopes and the melody fades out into mutual understanding and companionship. These moments Hyde thinks that there’s a reason to all their fighting, that it’s their special way of talking to one another. _What a messed up pair_ , he thinks fondly. Ophelia would smile and laugh, if she could see him now.

Maybe one day, they’ll actually figure out how to communicate without the need of violence. One day, fights won’t need to happen for them to be able to face one another properly, and Licht will shelve his pride and Hyde will move past his years of bitterness and they’ll be able to truly admit, not only to themselves but to the world, that they are friends first and foremost, the Servamp and Eve of Greed and nothing will be able to change that.


End file.
